


Put Your Benzedrine In Me

by laudanum_cafe



Category: Fall Out Boy, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Accidental Symbiote Reproduction, M/M, Monsterfucking Lite, Multi, No mpreg, Reunion Sex, Sick Character, Sickfic, Threesome - M/M/Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudanum_cafe/pseuds/laudanum_cafe
Summary: Patrick Stump moved to San Francisco for a six month work project and to escape a broken heart. While he's preparing to move back to Chicago, he hooks up with journalist Eddie Brock...and his symbiote Venom.On his way back to Chicago, Patrick starts feeling sick.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote/Patrick Stump, Patrick Stump/Eddie Brock, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz/Original Symbiote Character
Comments: 28
Kudos: 22
Collections: Lights! Camera! Peterick!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Lights! Camera! Peterick! challenge for the [Peterick Creations Challenge](https://peterickcreationschallenge.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Based around the classic 2018 romantic-comedy, Venom.

“Well, I think that’s the last of it.” Patrick looked around his now almost completely barren studio apartment, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, and sighing. He had boxed up the majority of his belongings yesterday and the day prior, but today would be the only day he had the employment of professional movers for the rest of his stuff. The moving company was set to take all of his possessions from his miniscule San Francisco pad, to his only slightly less meager one bedroom apartment in the suburbs outside of Chicago. While his time in California was an amazing professional experience, and a much needed and highly therapeutic six month emotional reprieve from his personal life, he had to admit that he was looking forward to returning to his hometown. 

Patrick closed the front door once the movers had taken the last of his boxed belongings and the king sized bed frame down to the van, and proceeded to walk towards the kitchenette area. “Thanks again for the help, Eddie. I really appreciate it,” he said as he opened the refrigerator, pulling out two bottles of water and two bottles of Lagunitas, handing over one of each to his friend and (now former) co-worker, Eddie Brock.

“Hey, don’t mention it. I was more than happy to help.” Eddie opened his water and started chugging; swallowing down 16.9 ounces of cold liquid like it was nothing. Patrick stared, completely entranced at the way Eddie’s throat contracted as the water went down, down, down his throat...and this made Patrick’s dirtydirtyfilthy mind start to wander _. _

Eddie finished his water and crushed the plastic bottle in his ( _ big...powerful...rugged...forceful)  _ hand. It wasn’t an impressive display of strength or anything, but Patrick always did love to look at Eddie’s large, masculine hands. Eddie noticed the stares, and liked the way Patrick’s eyes were all over him. Eddie could tell that Patrick was feeling  _ some kinda way.  _

“So, you said you’re driving back to Chicago in a couple of days? Or are you planning on leaving sooner now that all the moving is done?” Eddie watched the way Patrick continued to gaze at him; eye sweeping up and down his entire body. He obviously wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, so Eddie cleared his throat and asked again.

Patrick seemed slightly startled at the repeated inquiry. 

**_That’s because he’s distracted, Eddie. He’s attracted to you. I can smell the desire all over him, my love. Do you see the way his pupils are dark and the way he peers at your body? He’s undressing you with his eyessssss._ **

Eddie nodded his head in agreement to his beloved symbiote’s voice, heard only inside of Eddie’s mind, hissing out their assessment of Patrick’s body language and pheromones. He couldn’t reply out loud, but he knew that Venom understood him. 

Before Patrick could flub out a reply, Eddie decided to try and push things just a tad farther. Just to test the waters. He took a few steps forward, crowding into Patrick’s space. The younger man had his back to the refrigerator, so when he took a reflexive step back, he found he had no place left to go. Eddie, maintaining what he hoped was a sultry sort of eye contact, slowly reached up and placed his hand on the refrigerator right beside Patrick's head. Patrick sucked in a startled breath and stood stock still; eyes travelling from Eddie’s eyes to his thick, plush lips. Eddie smiled and stepped away, holding up a magnetic bottle opener in his hand. “Would you like me to pop yours open?”

Patrick shuddered. “Oh my god. Umm, yeah, sure.”

Eddie took the beer from Patrick’s hand and inspected the label before opening it. “Lagunitas Lil’ Sumpin IPA. Hmm, never had this before. I’m usually a PBR or Natty Ice man.”

Patrick’s body language quickly shifted from  _ DTF _ to  _ offended.  _ “You drink that piss water? On purpose? Dude, Natty Ice is what you drink when there’s absolutely no other option. You mean to tell me that you drink that shit  _ willingly?  _ You pay actual money for that garbage? You have to be kidding me.”

Eddie handed back the opened Lagunitas to Patrick and then held up his own opened bottle. “Well, who knows. Maybe this next sip will convert me.” Eddie lifted his bottle with a teasing grin. “Here’s to expanding our horizons...and to trying  _ new _ and  _ exciting _ things.”

**_Yessssssssss_ ** , Venom hissed inside Eddie’s mind.  **_There are so many new and exciting possibilities with him, Eddie. We could stuff him from every hole. Make him come so many times. Eddie...Eddie. EddieEddieEddie. I want to play with himmmmmm._ **

Eddie choked on a sip of his beer; a fine spray of liquid spluttering from his mouth and dribbling unfortunately from his lips as he coughed. 

“Oh shit,” Patrick was quick to react, pushing off from the refrigerator to start patting Eddie’s back, hoping the motion would help keep the man from aspirating further. “Are you good?”

Eddie did his best to control the coughing and steady his breathing. Flirting was never his strong point and today’s attempts at coy and sultry make him look like a drooling idiot. He hoped Patrick’s previous attraction wasn’t dampened too much from his awkwardness. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” He took in a deep breath to steady himself. Inside Eddie’s mind, Venom was chuckling. “Sorry, sip went down the wrong pipe.”

**_Ahhh, Eddie...we shall “lay down some pipe”. Is that the correct terminology? Imagine how beautiful he will look all stretched out around us. So tight. So responsive. So beautifully vocal. I bet he would sound so lovely gasping, whimpering,_ ** **_begging_ ** **_for release..._ **

“Jesus fucking Christ, V.” Eddie just  _ knew  _ he was red faced and a little sweaty. He was doing a shit job at being cool and seductive.

Patrick cocked his head, confused by Eddie’s sudden change in behavior. He had watched After the coughing fit, Eddie’s mind seemed to drift off for a second, as if he was thinking. Maybe having a silent conversation with himself. But it was a little strange to see Eddie shakily reply to whatever was in his head. “Sorry, what was that?”

Eddie didn’t realize that he had replied to Venom out loud. “Oh, nothing, nothing. Just...it’s nothing, promise.” Eddie was relieved to see that Patrick wasn’t going to push it and was able to relax when the younger man shifted his weight, grinned, and took a sip of his drink while maintaining half lidded eye contact. 

_ Fuck, he is so fucking sexy,  _ Eddie thought to himself. Internally, Venom rumbled out a deep purr of agreement.

Feeling emboldened by the vibes Patrick was giving off, Eddie decided to just go for it. “Hey, look. I wanted to ask you something.” Eddie took a fortifying swig of his beer, draining the remainder in one go. Patrick, once again, watched the working of Eddie’s throat muscles in rapt attention. “How would you feel about coming over tomorrow night for dinner and some beers. I’m not the best cook, but I can manage something edible. And I can pick up some of these fancy hipster beers you like so you’re not subjected to the horrors of working class brew. We could just hang out, watch some shows on demand, maybe listen to some--”

“Are you propositioning me with some  _ Netflix and Chill _ ?” Patrick asked, one dainty, honey colored eyebrow impressively arched towards his hairline. 

“Uhh, no, I mean...cos like, you’re leaving in like, two days, and we haven’t hung out much...or at all, really, and...well, like...umm, what I mean to say is--”

“No, yeah, I’m down. What time do you want me?”

  
  


**

  
  


In the end, Eddie and Patrick decided on an early afternoon hangout. It was a seemingly innocuous agreement, but both men had the same ulterior motives in mind. Should the date go well, it would end in enough time for several rounds and maybe a late dinner.

And with the way the day was progressing, both Patrick’s and Eddie’s plans were definitely coming to fruition. 

The television set was muted, the show they had started to binge watch left running and forgotten in the background. After a couple of episodes and a few beers, Eddie and Patrick’s light conversation drifted into more personal topics, as they each found themselves moving closer to one another on the couch. A few feet of space shrank to a few inches, a beer being handed over led to fingertips touching, which led to a few caresses, which then led to making out like teenagers.

While it was enjoyable and a novel means to pass the time, both men were long past their teenage years in which making out for hours was an acceptable end to their activities. No, there was a Greater Purpose to be achieved. While Patrick appreciated how slow Eddie seemed to be taking things, Patrick knew that it was time for him to take the reins and step it up. 

Which brings us to now: Patrick straddling Eddie Brock’s lap, hands wrapped around the back of the older man’s head, fingers entwined in his coarse dark hair, and winding his hips in a serpentine manner, grinding his quickly swelling cock back down onto Eddie’s. 

Patrick was moaning into the other man’s mouth, making his desires well known. Eddie may have been moving at a pace slower than he liked, but judging from how hard he was grabbing onto his hips and working those huge hands around to forcefully massage the globes of his ass, Patrick could tell he was getting the hint. But he needed to  _ make sure. _

Without fully disengaging his mouth, Patrick pulled back only enough to dizzily mumble into Eddie’s mouth. “Come on, Eddie. I want you to fuck me.”

Two powerful hands gripping tightly onto Patrick’s ass was Eddie’s only response. 

Patrick removed his hands from the tangle of Eddie’s hair and went straight for the button of his jeans, quickly and deftly popping open the closure and pushing down the zipper enough to get his hand down the front of Eddie’s pants. He palmed over the thick and pulsing cock twice, winding his hips in a counterpoint rhythm.

“Fuck, wait. Patrick. Stop. Hold on a second. Please.”

And boy, that was not something Patrick expected to hear right now. 

The combination of the words  _ wait  _ and  _ stop  _ worked immediately to quell the younger man’s thirst, and he pulled his hand away and clamored off of Eddie’s lap. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have rushed.”

Ready to tuck his tail between his legs and head back to his barren apartment, Patrick started to move off the couch. Before he could get two steps away, Eddie grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down. “Patrick, you’re fine. It’s…” Eddie let out a huge sigh. “Look, it’s just, I was kinda feeling a little...I dunno, non-con?”

Patrick looked at him with a mix of confusion and a little bit of fear. If he was being honest with himself, Patrick really didn’t know Eddie Brock all that well. They had a decent co-worker acquaintanceship at best, and here Patrick was, in the older man’s apartment, ready and willing to engage in all sorts of naked activities. It was really not that far off from a one night stand, without all of the weird total stranger aspects. Eddie was a work associate, but only in the sense that they worked in the same building. Their work paths never crossed, they worked in separate departments, and had very different circles of work cliques. They gravitated towards one another occasionally in passing, sharing quick conversations, and disclosing almost nothing of personal significance. 

All sorts of worst case scenarios were starting to flash in Patrick’s mind now that he took a moment to collect himself. Acquaintance rape was most definitely a thing, but since Eddie was the one pumping the breaks on their activities, Patrick figured that was probably not what was happening. 

Patrick  _ knew  _ he hadn’t misread Eddie’s interest, but it was still hard to keep from feeling those old insecurities about body issues. He was always a petite guy that tended to be on the chubby side. While most of his past relationships and hookups actually loved that about him, it was still hard to not be affected by what the mainstream deemed as attractive. 

Eddie was waiting for Patrick to say something, but when the younger man remained silent, obviously nervous and struggling with his own internal dialogue, Eddie knew he had to bite the bullet and just say it. 

“Okay, I am going to have to use a bit of full disclosure here, there’s no way around it.”

Patrick looked less confused and more afraid. 

**_Eddie...you are fucking this up._ **

“I already know I’m fucking up, V. Give me a fucking second, okay?” 

This was the second time that Patrick caught Eddie replying to himself as  _ V  _ and this time he knew he hadn’t heard incorrectly. “Yeah, okay. What the fuck are you talking about, Eddie?” Patrick was shifting his way to the end of the couch and looking like he was ready to bolt. “Look, it’s cool. Just forget everything. I’m gonna go home and in a couple of days, I’ll be in Chicago and you’ll never have to hear from me again. It’s like this never happened, okay? Is that cool with you?”

**_Eddie...tell him._ **

“Look, Patrick. Before things went any further, I just felt I needed to disclose some personal info about myself. If you want to leave after I explain, that’s fine. I totally understand. But I really needed to make sure you were aware of...something.” Eddie paused and looked over at Patrick, who still appeared to be a nervous wreck. “See, this is the thing. There’s someone else.”

Patrick looked shocked. This was  _ not  _ what he was expecting Eddie to say. “You’re in a fucking  _ relationship?  _ Dude, I didn’t know! What the fuck?”

“No! Well, yes. Kinda? Look, it’s--”

“Eddie Brock if you give me the  _ it’s complicated  _ line right now, I swear to fucking god--”

“NO! Nonononono! Well, I mean, yeah, it  _ is  _ complicated, but  _ not  _ in the way you’re probably thinking.” Eddie cut himself off and closed his eyes, taking a few breaths to steady his mind. “Maybe it’s better if I show you. V? Can you come out?”

“What the  _ fuck,  _ Eddie?!” Patrick was shrieking. “Is your partner  _ here?  _ What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Patrick stared at Eddie as he saw some of his features start to ripple and drip in black. “What the--”

“Patrick. It’s going to be a lot easier to explain in a few minutes. Ready, V?” 

**_Yes, Eddie._ **

Eddie nodded and looked to Patrick once again. “ _ Mask. _ ”

**_Copy._ **

  
  


**

  
  


To say that Patrick was more than a little stunned by what Eddie Brock had just revealed to him would be a huge understatement. He sat there, seemingly catatonic or in shock, looking back at Eddie and what appeared to be a pulsing black mass that was wrapped protectively around the older man. He knew, from the brief interaction between Eddie and the sentient black goo, that said mass was named Venom. He could hear Eddie explaining things, managed to catch a few words and phrases here and there in between his disconnected moments. Venom’s head hovered to Eddie’s side and kept  _ grinning  _ their disturbing sharp toothed grin while staring at Patrick, occasionally licking their lips. The few times Venom did speak, Patrick would feel himself quivering involuntarily at the deep bass of their voice.

He really didn’t feel like he was grounded in reality right now. Patrick had experienced plenty of weird nightmares, panic attacks, and numerous episodes of sleep paralysis, but this felt like a surreal combination of all three. 

Patrick’s mind was reeling with a million and one thoughts. Fear, confusion, curiosity…

Eventually, his brain zeroed in on his conclusion. 

“Right,” Patrick chirped, effectively cutting off Eddie’s continued explanation (which he wasn’t really listening to anyways), and then wiped his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans. “I’ve seen enough to know that I am somehow totally down to get fucked by Eddie Brock and a shapeshifting alien symbiote.”

Eddie looked at Patrick with a soft expression of concern. Venom grinned and extended a huge, meaty, tongue and licked what would be their lips, dripping slick, viscous saliva on Eddie’s arm. 

Yeah, Patrick was definitely interested. “Let’s do this.”

  
  


**

  
  


Okay... 

So, here’s the thing that almost no one knows about Patrick. 

While the majority of the sex he’s had in his short, but altogether somewhat satisfactory, experience into the world of amorous affections has been on the vanilla side, Patrick has a very long and ambitious list of  _ Things I’d Like To Do While Making Fuck.  _

A sort-of  _ Make Fuck Bucket List _ , if you will.

Somewhere down this list (which isn’t actually written down anywhere...imagine the horror of having something like that exposed to the world), probably around the three-hundreds between “Edwardian damsel-in-distress roleplay” and “oviposition”, is the word  _ Monsterfucking.  _ Now, for Patrick, this could branch out into a whole other list of specifics, but since monsters are definitely not real, he felt that one word would suffice in succinctly wrapping up the idea of “being rawed by some sort of Eldrich abomination” or “being face fucked by the living personification of Centralia, aka: The Silent Hill town”.

Patrick may have given the impression that he was a vanilla-sex sort of Pillow Prince, but what he wanted was the opposite of vanilla (he was still a Pillow Prince, though, that much was undeniable). In fact, his fantasies were some sort of dark chocolate that were guarded by demons that he desperately wanted to gang bang.

So, when Eddie Brock (who, by the way, was a whole other entry on Patrick’s  _ Make Fuck Bucket List) _ revealed that he was the happy host to a sentient alien symbiote with an amorphous, liquid-like form, who can form themselves into any array of delicious shapes and sizes...well, Patrick didn’t hesitate. 

This was literally about five  _ Make Fuck Bucket List  _ entries wrapped up in one.

Patrick was lying back in bed...wait, actually, he was kinda hovering about a foot above the bed, slinky black tendrils holding him aloft, limbs apart, almost impossibly covering every inch of his body (and almost all of his orifices), Eddie Brock and Venom both fucking deep into his poor, abused, oversensitive ass. He could barely breathe with the way Venom’s tendrils were covering his face, slipping into his greedy mouth so he could have something to suck on. He had already come twice but Eddie and Venom were relentless, and fuck he was thrilled at the prospect of ticking “overstimulation” and “multiple orgasms”  _ and  _ “prostate milking” off that MFBL…

...and yet Patrick’s mind kept thinking back to Pete. How badly he wished the man could watch him be taken apart by Eddie and Venom...how he wished Pete would join in for some sort of Monsterfucking gang bang. 

Jesus fucking Christ, Patrick was being fucked within an inch of his life (probably literally; who knew if alien symbiote tentacle fuck monsters ate their victims afterwards), living out  _ several  _ impossible sexual fantasies, and yet his brain kept flitting back to  _ PetePetePete. _

_***_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick arrives home to Chicago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in my life, I'll never get a beta. I only have myself to blame.

Saying goodbye to California was easier than Patrick had previously anticipated. While he had thoroughly enjoyed the balmy, sunny climate, and was overjoyed with the large and welcoming LGBTQ+ community, The Golden City never felt like some place he could call home. He was just a visitor in that city, just passing through. It was a city he would love to visit again, but wasn’t enchanted enough to ever consider living there. He was there for only six months, not long enough to grow roots or form any seriously long lasting relationships, and really, he didn’t want to. His friendship with Eddie had barely cracked the surface and ended in a glorious fling that Patrick would always remember, but he wasn’t terribly interested in maintaining a long distance relationship. It wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t an amazing man. In the short time they spent together, he knew that Eddie would make a fantastic partner. No, Patrick was ready to cut ties. Afterall, he was just passing through for half a year in order to get some distance from the place where his heart was broken, and to find some distraction in the form of a short term work project while avoiding any and everything that could possibly remind him of what was once his other half.

It was almost impossible to escape the ever lingering essence of Pete Wentz. Everything in Patrick’s life seemed to have been infused with the  _ Essence of Wentz _ and had, at maximum, three degrees of separation to the man. Nearly everything and everyone in Patrick’s life had a connection to Pete. For almost the entirety of Patrick’s adult life, he was known as  _ PeteAndPatrick,  _ instead of simply Patrick Stump. 

Patrick and Pete became inseparable shortly after meeting when they were 15 and 20, respectively. They were instant best friends and inseparable throughout all of Patrick’s formative years. Their transition from  _ Bestest Friends Forever _ to  _ Lovers For All of Eternity _ was a no brainer (for them or anyone around them). 

It was a massive shock when their relationship collapsed with more brilliance than the supernova of an ancient star. 

How does one recover when their very universe has exploded? 

If Patrick was going to get the closure he needed, he knew he would have to take some drastic measures. It wasn’t enough for Patrick to leave the city of Chicago. He knew he had to flee completely from the state of Illinois…and hell, even that wasn’t enough. Patrick had to go as far as actually clearing completely out of the entire mid-west area of America. 

Thankfully, not a single thing about California reminded Patrick of the man he was running away from. 

California had treated him well and served its purpose, but now his time in San Francisco was over and, ready or not, Patrick was heading back to Chicago.

Patrick would have greatly preferred to have taken a flight for his return to the Windy City. He was tired as hell, sleep deprived, and his body ached in ways he never could have imagined. As much as he detested airplanes, he would have given anything to be able to lie back, pop on his headphones, and sleep for four hours. As much as he would have loved that luxury, it was far more affordable to drive his car, loaded with the last of his belongings that were not sent off with the moving company, back home to Chicago. 

He didn’t have a concrete driving schedule planned, and drove for as long as he could without passing out behind the wheel. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible and only made two overnight stops when his body simply couldn’t take the driving anymore.

It was the absolute roughest, most hellish three days of Patrick’s existence to date. 

He was already feeling tired and run down when he departed San Francisco, and by the time he reached his first stop in Salt Lake City, Patrick was feeling the chills of what seemed to be a really bad flu settling deep into his bones. Unfortunately, a full night’s sleep didn’t do a thing to help ease his ails, and he was forced to find accommodations some nine hours later in the middle of nowhere, aka Ogallala, Nebraska. A low grade fever and nausea had started to make the journey nearly impossible, and though he was apprehensive about the shitty accommodations in such a small town, Patrick  _ needed  _ to rest. Thankfully, Patrick was feeling a bit better by the following morning and was able to complete the final eleven and a half hour drive to Chicago in one piece. 

When he pulled into the parking spot of his new apartment, Joe Trohman was walking downstairs to greet him. 

“Jesus Christ, man, you look like hell and you smell  _ terrible.  _ Did you drive for thirty-one hours straight and not shower for a week beforehand, or something? What the fuck, Patrick.” Regardless of how Joe felt about Patrick’s fragrance, he hugged his shorter friend tightly, only pulling away when he felt Patrick start to get squirmish. “No, but seriously. Are you okay? You really do look sick.”

Patrick took a step back and leaned against the side of his car, closing his eyes as another wave of dizziness and nausea took hold. “Actually, I caught the fucking flu or something. I had to make two overnight stops and find a motel to rest in. I feel like complete shit right now and just want to pass out on the first flat surface I find and sleep for a week.” Patrick took a steadying breath as the urge to puke in the parking lot thankfully receded a little. “Please tell me you at least have my bed set up. Anything else can wait. I just need--” Patrick was cut off when all of a sudden his stomach roiled and he stumbled over to the dirt in front of the parking bumper and proceeded to puke up the contents of his stomach. 

When the loud, violent retching finally stopped, Joe helped his sick friend take a seat on a vacant parking bumper a safe distance away from the pile of stomach acid and sickness. “Hey, okay, yeah. You’re definitely not good. Just...sit here for a minute and I’ll start grabbing the stuff from the car. Your place is pretty much all set up, except for a bunch of clothes and miscellaneous boxes that we couldn’t figure out. We did what we thought was best and figured you’d probably rearrange everything anyways but at least for now, you don’t really have to do a thing.”

“Fuck, that’s...thank you. Right now, all I care about is a bed to sleep in. I feel like I’m dying.” Patrick was visibly shivering and looking grey.

“Come on. I’ll give you the tour,” Joe reached out with his free hand to help pull Patrick to stand. It was a little wobbly, but manageable. 

“If it’s okay with you, I really just want to brush my teeth and go to bed. You can stay if you want, but I feel like I’m going to crash, whether I want to or not.” 

Joe kept a hand on Patrick’s shoulder as the pair slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor apartment. Thankfully, the complex was an open garden style, so his unit was right at the top of the stairs. 

Once inside, Patrick collapsed on the loveseat that was right inside the entranceway, and listed off to the side, legs pulled up into a fetal position. His eyes were closed and he was shaking,  _ hard. _

Joe quickly ran off to the bedroom to toss the bags inside and pulled down the bedcovers for Patrick. He was getting really worried seeing how quickly his friend was deteriorating. 

It took a few tries, but Joe managed to get Patrick up and into the bedroom, where he sank into the sheets with a grateful moan. 

“Damn, dude, you’re really fucked. Do you have any medicine in these bags or something? Is there something I can do to help?”

Patrick blearily opened his eyes, struggling to focus on Joe’s face. “Maybe...water?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll grab you some.” 

When Joe returned with two bottled waters, he helped Patrick sit up and take a few sips. “So yeah, we stocked the kitchen with just some of the basics but you’ll need to do groceries later when you’re better.”

Patrick finished a small sip and recapped the water bottle. “Are you using the royal ‘we’ or are you talking about someone in particular?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I mean, we as in, uh. I had help setting up your apartment. We as in. Uh. Me and Pete.”

_ Oh god. Me and Pete. _

Patrick’s stomach flipped. 

Joe grabbed the waste basket that was in the corner and brought it to Patrick a split second before the blonde started puking again. After a few heaves, nothing was coming back up, and Patrick was able to lie back down, catching his breath from all the retching. 

Hearing Pete’s name again, and knowing he had been in his home, had actually helped Joe with the moving process...it was just too much to deal with right now. 

Patrick could feel himself slipping, succumbing to the illness he had been fighting for days. He could hear Joe talking to him, somewhere far off in the distance, but he couldn’t keep track of what was being said. Everything hurt and he just felt so weak. Eventually, Patrick drifted off into a fitfully fevered sleep, mumbling and moaning, Pete’s name on his lips. 

  
  


**

  
  


Joe didn’t feel comfortable leaving Patrick alone in a new apartment when he was this sick. Logically, he knew Patrick would be able to take care of himself; it was just a really bad flu. He could just leave a note advising him of what was where, leave the map of the complex that the leasing staff gave him when he started moving Patrick’s stuff in, and take the spare key to lock up. But something told Joe that this was a little worse than the flu. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, Joe decided to stay for a little longer. He grabbed his phone charger and made himself comfortable in Patrick’s living room. 

He was scrolling through his social media accounts, liking and reblogging various posts on various platforms, when his perusal was interrupted with an incoming call. His screen was illuminated with the zoomed in image of a tanned ass that had a very ugly tattoo on the right buttcheek that said “I lost a bet to Joe Trohman” and the contact name  _ Venti Scumbag _ at the top. He thought about sending the call to voicemail, afraid that talking would bother Patrick (Joe had a tendency to speak loudly, especially on a call), but knew that doing so would just make things worse. 

“What’s up, fucker?” 

_ “Hey. I saw you active online. Are you done at Patrick’s? Is he home?” _

“What the fuck, Pete?” Joe wasn’t surprised that Pete had been stalking his social media, watching for a sign that Patrick was home. “You’re such a fucking creeper, you know that?”

Pete just signed and remained silent. Joe waited a moment for his friend to say something but when he heard a sniffle, he decided to show some kindness. “Yeah, he’s home. He’s sleeping right now. Seems he got the flu and just passed out shortly after getting in. I’m just hanging around for a little while to make sure he doesn’t choke on his puke or something, I dunno.”

_ “He’s that sick? Dude--”  _ Pete cut himself off and Joe could hear a lot of muffled shuffling and moving around going on.  _ “Lemme just--ow! Fuck!” _

“Pete, NO. Do  _ not _ come over right now. Look, he’s not feeling good right now and I’m sure you’re the last person he wants to see at the moment.” Even to Joe, that sounded a bit too harsh. “I’m sorry, Pete. But he ran away for a reason. I love you but you gotta let it go.”

The muffling on the other end of the line stopped.  _ “Joe Trohman, fuck you for saying that.” _

“Pete...come on. You know I’m not trying to hurt your feelings.”

_ “I know. However, you should also know better than to try and get in the middle of this. Patrick and I need to fucking discuss what happened. At the very least, I deserve some sort of closure. He fucking destroyed me, Joe. He fucking left me, blocked my ass, ran the fuck away to the other side of the fucking continent.”  _ Pete sounded a painful mix of angry and absolutely despondent. “ _ Do you even know  _ why?  _ Huh? Did he tell you the whole fucking story?”  _ Pete was trying to keep the tears away but his efforts were futile. 

“No, Pete, he never told me. He cut me off, too...you already know that, man. I didn’t hear from him for months. He only just reached out to me a couple of months before he came back, and that’s because he needed help with the move and shit. All he said was that he needed time to heal. I didn’t ask for details, Pete. I was afraid he’d block me again. I had to respect his wishes, man.” Joe sighed, tired from all of this shit. “You never told me anything, either. I don’t know a single fucking thing about what went down. All I know is that Patrick must have had a reason for doing what he did.”

_ “Are you insinuating that this was all MY fault?” _

“Well, he did fucking  _ leave  _ everything he’s ever known. People don’t just fucking try and start a new life for no reason, Pete.” Joe waited a few moments. He was starting to get loud and he didn’t want to wake Patrick up. “Pete. Level with me. Did you cheat on him?”

The silence that filled the air was almost an admission of guilt to Joe’s ears. 

Joe slouched down into the couch cushions and sighed. “Oh, fuck, Pete. How could you do that to--”

_ “Joseph. I am only going to say this one time, so listen close. I very much did NOT cheat on Patrick, nor did I say or do anything that could come remotely close to cheating. I have not engaged in ANY sort of behavior that could ever in a million years even be misconstrued as infidelity or flirting or...or fucking ANYTHING. Even in the entire time that Patrick has been away, and we have been officially broken up or on a break or whatever the fuck this is, I haven’t chatted someone up, kissed anyone, or even jerked off thinking of anyone else but HIM. Nothing! I have remained faithful to him in every single imaginable way. I promise you that infidelity is NOT what happened! Fuck you, Trohman! Fuck you and fuck your fucking cheat theories, and fuck your fucking face!” _

“Fuck off, Pete! What the fuck?! So fucking sorry for assuming that of you but--”

Whatever obscenities the pair of friends were about to start hurling at one another were cut off when the sound of Patrick screaming filled the air.

_ “Joe, is that Patrick? What’s happening?” _

“I dunno, I’m gonna check. Lemme call you ba--”

_ “NO! Stay on the phone!” _

Joe didn’t bother arguing and just went into Patrick’s bedroom. 

“Oh, fuck.” Joe gasped when he saw his friend, writhing on the bed in pain. Joe put the phone down on the nearest surface and went to sit beside Patrick. “Dude, wake up. Come on, what’s going on.”

Patrick’s eyes were open, the scleras colored a staggering red that appeared to have been caused by injury rather than illness. His gaze was unfocused, but he was looking at Joe. “I don’t...I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“It’s okay, Patrick. You’re gonna be fine.” Joe didn’t know who he was trying to reassure, himself or his friend. “I think you need to go to the hospital.”

This snapped Patrick to attention. “NO! I can’t! No hospital. Please. Just…” Patrick leaned over the side of his bed and started puking into the trash can that was left there. When he finished, he closed his eyes and just sank bonelessly back into the sheets. He was shaking and once again mumbling out Pete’s name.

Joe could hear Pete’s voice calling from his discarded phone.

_ “I’m coming over, Trohman.” _

Joe just nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, man. I’ll see you soon.”

  
  


**

  
  


It was sometime after the sun had disappeared on the western horizon, 2,400 miles away from where Patrick was writhing in a fever dream state of metamorphosis, that Venom separated themselves from their host, and stood rigid for several minutes, as if listening to something that only they could hear. 

**“Eddie...they have sparked.”** Venom finally spoke after several moments.

“V? What are you talking about? What has sparked?”

Venom remained stoically still once again before emitting a low rumble from deep within his being.  **“The spawn, Eddie.** **_Our_ ** **spawn. They have sparked. I can sense them, hear them. They are almost ready.”**

Eddie was starting to panic. He had no idea what his love was talking about.

Venom could sense his confusion, and used his connection to Eddie to transfer the information in a silent transference. Eddie gasped when understanding finally dawned. “Oh. Oh my fucking god. I-- I need to call Patrick. He has no idea... _ I  _ had no idea... _ fuck!”  _

**“Yes, my darling. Benzedrine is born.”**

  
  
  


**

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos are lovely but comments are what keeps the writer energized. So don't be stingy with your affections!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [LaudanumCafe](http://laudanumcafe.tumblr.com)


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